


Eight Seasons

by LittleCligane



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Age difference/Underage wants, Distant love, F/M, Growing Up, Internal Thoughts, Non Explicit, Sexual tension/Inferred sex, Sweet Rory/Embarrased Sophie/Maisie is amazing wing-man, limited dialogue, non Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 18:38:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18816715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleCligane/pseuds/LittleCligane
Summary: My first fanfic ... I´m dying here, nerves cracking and all…deciding if I will ever brace myself to upload this story. In this story we start with a Sophie of 16 and Rory of 29 years respectively. This is just my imagination; obviously I know that Sophie has married Joe Jonas and that Rory has always kept his private life away from the media. Anyway, I hope you like it. I do not own the pictures shown in the story, I just went crazy googling. Hope you enjoy it!!Up to Georgia…my muse.





	Eight Seasons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steampunk_Seahorse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Seahorse/gifts).



> My first fanfic ... I´m dying here, nerves cracking and all…deciding if I will ever brace myself to upload this story. In this story we start with a Sophie of 16 and Rory of 29 years respectively. This is just my imagination; obviously I know that Sophie has married Joe Jonas and that Rory has always kept his private life away from the media. Anyway, I hope you like it. I do not own the pictures shown in the story, I just went crazy googling. Hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Up to Georgia…my muse.

EIGHT SEASONS

FIRST SEASON (16-29)

I'm only 16 ...

I´ve just met him and he immediately has captured my heart. It's strange to feel my heart beating so fast just to hear his voice or feel his presence. It is absurd to think he can notice my existence beyond what is necessary. He just see a silly girl who sighs and dreams with the look of his eyes. In the silence of the hotel room, I wish time to fly by ... 

SECOND SEASON (17-30)

I'm 17…

I'm growing ... wanting him to notice my little changes. This year, he talks a little bit more with me, everything focused on our characters. He calls me his Littlebird. But it is only fiction. Spite of it, deep down in my heart I wish it were reality. He begins to invade my dreams, flooding my being with sensations that I have never felt before.  
His birthday is coming ...  
I sneak into his trailer on the set and leave on his bed a handkerchief with his initial and on the handkerchief a small note:  
"For Rory ... from Littlebird"  
The days pass by, and there is only silence. Please look at me!!! 

THIRD SEASON (18-31)

I am 18 years old…

He still does not realize that I'm dying from a look from his eyes? Now he is far from me, I do not have the consolation of seeing him. I feel so silly remembering the handkerchief on his bed, my silly attempt to get his attention and the silence after it. I keep in my memory the sound of his voice and at night while I sleep ... little by little he floods my dreams. 

FOURTH SEASON (19-32)

I'm 19 years old ... I'm here!!!!!

My voice wants to scream his name ... but I just keep silent. I can only entrust my most intimate secrets to the one who spends almost all the time at his side at this moment ... Maisie.  
His birthday is coming...  
In a lapse of courage I send him a second gift ... this time a red scarf. I beg and insist that Maisie help me. She reluctantly accepts and makes sure my gift reaches him. I hear rumors that his role in production will soon end, I am terrified to lose any opportunity to see him again. Then...just silence. 

FIFTH SEASON (20-33)

I am 20 years…

He´s still in my mind. The memory of his voice and his eyes accompany me. Every night he appears in my dreams and I wake up every morning desire him, imagining him. I watch my naked reflection in the mirror, I imagine his hands brushing my skin and my mind becomes cloudy heady and my body needy. I know his hands will be rough and hard against my skin, his rasping voice in my ear and the heat of his breath against my neck like a whisper lost in the winds. I open my eyes ... it's just the touch of my hands.  
He has gone...to the life that he so zealously protects. Far away from the spotlight and the scrutiny of the people. Always so alone, so distant and away. I have no way to contact him, he hides like a hermit in a cave. When my mind travels to his memory, I wonder if he keeps the gifts I have sent him. In my dreams ... I hear his voice calling me his Littlebird. 

SIXTH SEASON (21-34)

I am 21 years old ... Please, look at me!!!!

He has returned, but I still do not see him. My dreams take me to his memory every night; I imagine his caresses, his beard on my neck...his voice calling me his Littlebird. I long for him but it is all for nothing, he is far away, he is always so far away. Then I wake up and his image evaporates but his hands still haunt my body. I brace myself and I search for a way to send him a third gift ... a lock of my hair accompanied with a note: "For Rory…from Littlebird". Silence. 

Maisie comes to visit during our break between production. I´ll probably listen to the same sermon ... let him go, set your heart free, do not harbor an unrequited love. I try...I really try. But when the night comes, I find him again in my dreams. My body responds to his voice so rooted in my mind. I close my eyes and see only the brightness of his eyes ... hazel eyes watching me. 

SEVENTH SEASON (22-35)

I'm 22 years old ... I keep thinking about him!!!

I receive the invitation to the party for the production closing of the season. I'm reluctant to go. Maisie promises not to let me get in trouble. She knows that alcohol and I do not make a good combination. She is so insistent that I end up accepting. Knowing his personality, I doubt he leaves the tranquility of his boat, his treasured silence. I feel relaxed knowing I will not make a fool of myself in front of him.  
I knew it as soon as Maisie disappeared from my sight. I should not have had that fourth glass of wine...I feel a little hot and cheerful. I promise myself not to drink again...  
Hell...what do I do in front of everyone with a microphone in hand? I'm looking for Maisie among people. I find her in front of the karaoke display, with her mischievous look while she selects the song she knows I end up singing when my drinks go by and my heart empties. Hells Maisie...Rescue me!!!  
Gently the melody begins to sound and everyone urges me to sing or drink another drink as punishment. More alcohol is not an option, so I close my eyes, and start singing as I imagine him. (The song Sophie sings is Say it First by Sam Smith)  
https://youtu.be/IzhQ8rXj5uA 

I finish singing, little by little I open my eyes and in the middle of all, the first thing I notice is a red scarf and a pair of hazel eyes looking at me with a mixture of amazement and hesitation. 

I try to get off the improvised stage and everything clouds around me. Little by little I open my eyes and meet his gaze. I try to divert mine, I do not want my eyes to reveal what for years my voice has not had the courage to say. He slowly pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket to dry my forehead. I recognize that handkerchief ... it has his initial. Carefully, he picks me up and near my ear says:

\- Are you okay, Littlebird?

My mind flies…  
I blink my eyes once, twice trying to control my emotions. Embarrassed I take a few steps back, muttering incoherently, taking my bag from Maisie's hands. Dodging everyone out of my way I leave in a hurry.  
The phone rings, rings and rings. I just want to disappear, spend an eternity in the bathtub. Maisie arrives at the room we share at the hotel and forces me out of the tub.

-Sophs...take your ass out of the tub, you look like a plum!!! Get dressed and talk to me. Do not avoid me.  
-Maisie, please, just leave me alone!  
-It's not a suggestion Sophs ... it's an order.  
-Really??? ... I just want to be alone.  
-Ughhh...please! Get it together Sophs!!!! You need to show yourself!!! Rory has been nagging me for two days to find him an opportunity to talk to you. 

When I only pout at her and cross my arms she finishes her threat…

-Or I will let Rory to see you all deshelved and prunny!! Do you really want him to see you like this??

Alarmed for him to see me in such a state I concede and get dressed. Inside the elevator my mind does not stop spinning. I die of shame when I remember everything that happened on karaoke night. In the lobby, Rory walks from one side to the other, pacing. I'm petrified just a few steps behind him. Turning around, his gaze is different ... warm. I just manage at babbling a hello and my hands start to sweat.

-Littlebird!! I was worried about you. You ran out of the party before I could talk to you. Would you like to go with me to a quieter place where we can talk? There is a very quiet cafe about 20 minutes from here. What do you think?

I just nod and let him lead the way. We walk in silence, he guiding me with his hand gently touching my back sliding down from between my shoulder blades to the small of my back. Upon entering the cafe, he looks for the farthest table away from the windows and away from people, and we take a seat.

-Do you want to drink something?  
-Maybe a latte?...keeping my eyes down.

Slowly he puts a handkerchief and a perfectly braided red lock on the table. My heart beats too fast and his hoarse voice takes me out of the void in which I sought to hide.

-Littlebird, may I tell you a story?

I accept shaking my head ... trying to stay calm.

-"Eight years ago, I met the most beautiful and sweet looking lass I've ever seen. So alien to the torrid atmosphere of the acting career. I've seen her grow over the years to become a beautiful woman”.

I swallow ... I try to say something but my throat is constricting; my heart is pounding so hard I am sure it will crack a rib.

-Please Littlebird, let me continue. I waited for you in silence. Keeping these treasures close to me. Fearing that one day someone else would come and take you away from me. Please...tell me these gifts mean you feel something for me?? I want to hear from your voice what I have wanted for years.

I cannot speak, a knot imprisons my throat. His nervous gaze seeks answers, his hands play with the curl of hair. In a whisper, I manage to say:

-Rory, I've waited so long...searching for the courage. I have loved you while growing up. I still do.

Taking my hands and bringing them to his chest, between murmurs...

-Littlebird, I've loved you, in the distance, while you were growing up.

EIGHTH SEASON (23-36)

I am 23 years old…

I wake up feeling the sun shine through the hatch, but I do not want to break the charm. I want to prolong the delicate sensation of the cooing of the sea surrounded in his arms. Feel the warmth of his naked body surrounding mine, his breathing relaxed at my nape.

He loves me ... he has always done it. The road will not be easy, we will face prejudices, curious looks because of the difference in age. But we have waited so many years to let the opinion of others ruin our newly found happiness. I feel his warm hand caressing my breast, his beard brushing the back of my neck...

-Littlebird...are you awake?

I try to answer, but his lips shut me up before I can answer. His hands run delicately over my skin, memorizing every dip and curve of my body. Feeling his breath against my sensitive skin causes a tingling sensation that runs through me from head to toe. Not in all my fantasies imagine that such pleasure could exist. My inexperience is not a barrier to feel flooded with so much passion. He takes his time ... enjoying every sigh he snatches from my voice. Overwhelmed by so much pleasure ... I just manage to tell him to make me his again and again.

-My Littlebird, so impatient? So long I have waited, so long I have wanted you. Let me enjoy you, let me drink your kisses, memorize every curve of your body, record in my memory your voice murmuring my name. I marvel at the thought that you love this old sea dog.

I silence his mouth with mine, inch by inch I travel down his body with my lips. Stealing my name from him in groans. I let his body cover me in its entirety...I just let myself go. While the sea rocks his boat, I give him my soul, my body. After eight seasons...He is mine and I am his. 

The End.


End file.
